


Why Vitya cut his hair

by WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Complete, His Dad Is A Dick, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of Crying, Self-Hatred, Teen Victor Nikiforov, homophobia typical of Russia, kinda anxiety disorder?, toxic masculinity, victor just needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 21:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch/pseuds/WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch
Summary: "Viktor Nikiforov; scandalous supposed homosexual activity to be the face of Russia in Olympics?"He was making headlines. He was making headlines, and it would be the end of him.





	Why Vitya cut his hair

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to 'Heal' By Tom Odell, so maybe listen to it while you read??  
> Also, the lovely Witchydigit has a new youtube channel on which he reads fanfics! its really cool and you should check the channel out! It deserves way more recognition.

"Viktor Nikiforov; on the best and worst dressed skaters of the Grand Prix"

"Viktor Nikiforov; the really best role model for your son?"

"Viktor Nikiforov; not traveling with stars on ice? Find out more inside"

"Viktor Nikiforov; skating up to par or just a beauty queen?"

"Viktor Nikiforov; the best choice to represent Russia?"

"Viktor Nikiforov; scandalous supposed homosexual activity to be the face of Russia in Olympics?"

He was making headlines. He was making headlines and it would be the end of him. His father stood in front of him, he had just thrown the papers on the ground at Viktor's feet. 

Viktor tensed and tripped over himself trying to back away.  
"I can explain- father please"  
He had backed into the dining room table. 

"Viktor, I will not have you representing the family this way. Do you not see the image you have made for yourself?! You foolish child." 

Viktor flinched. His father never called him just Viktor, his father never raised his voice, his father never looked at him with such malice and disappointment. 

"This is how the news works father- please- they need readers who- It's not based on any fact- I don't think I act- I-" the more he spoke the more he felt something heavy rise in his chest. His heart raced. Viktor thought he was going to lose his balance. 

"My son would ever be seen in this light, even by the crazed media. It's your damn hair that provoked it, the damn skates too!" His father's voice reaching its crescendo by the last line.

They had never been particularly close but his father had never yelled at him. Never. The household had always been quiet and a sustained comfortable silence, but now his father's voice rang through the house cutting the cherished calm ora to shreds.

His father’s voice was too loud. Everything was too loud. He couldn't breath. Viktor stood stone still, he couldn't bring himself to breath in, to move, to say anything.

"You know what, it's the skating. It is. I've watched you on that ice. it's hard to believe you don't think yourself to be some pretty girl. Everything you've done since that first gold had brought more shame than what this family knows what to do with!" 

Viktor didn't realize he was crying. He tried to blink away the tears because Goddamnit his father told him men don't cry. Every Time, years on end, when he cried he received only this statement. No affections, more often than not he would not even be given privacy. The last thing he needed to hear was-

"Viktor"  
A pause  
"Are you crying"  
An immediate, "no father"  
"Men don't cry Viktor"  
"I know father" Viktor knew. He knew what a failure he was. The one thing he was good at only brought shame to his name and even a danger of imprisonment. 

Maybe if the sound of his father's footsteps out of the room didn't sound like freight trains he could stop crying. 

His father's feet kept sounding like freight trains.  
______

The news. It was the news. Why the news. His father always watched the news. The whole of Russia watched the news but he could have cared less if his father didn't watch; but he did.

"-Well and I think the.. Erm- reputation Viktor has made for himself isn't really the face we want to be putting out. I mean sure he can skate but we can't let the child be the face- oh you know- his tenancies, his headlines, not to mention his hair" the second reporter laughed. 

Viktor's father stabbed at the food on his plate a bit too hard. 

Viktor look to his mother and she looked away. And again his eyes burned fiercely. He wanted to just disappear; the eyes of his father, the lack thereof from his mother...

Viktor knew he was about to cry. He tried to get up quickly enough that his father wouldn't see.

"Viktor"  
A hushed, "Yes father"  
"Are you crying"  
"No fath-"  
"Men don't cry Viktor."  
And with that his father looked away and by the time he looked up again Viktor was hidden away in his room. 

"Men don't cry", a sob, and a stinging slap to his own face. 

Viktor stood in front of his mirror trying so hard to hold it together- goddamnit hold it together. Viktor lowered himself to the floor. The cold dark wood was not welcome and Viktor realized how much he just wanted to be held. Held by warm, strong arms, and- He hit himself again. 

Men don't want to be held by other men.

Men don't cry.  
___________

Viktor had kissed a boy, once. It was like everything had fallen into place. Every time he had felt nothing for the female skaters tight, short outfits (except how he could incorporate the style into his own), it all made sense from that day forward. 

It's scared him. 

Viktor was pretty sure the boy had been arrested.  
__________

This was the worst yet. This would be it for him. 

When Viktor entered the room he saw his father standing feet from the tv. His balled fists shook, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were fixed on the tv. 

Viktor could see himself on the television. It was a video of him skating a woman's routine. 

He had worn his hair down, he even had sewn a sort of half skirt to his already feminine costume. He had thought he was alone, that the cold dark of the familiar rink could keep him safe. Apparently Viktor was mistaken.

He tried to walk away from the living room where he could feel his father's anger. But the floorboards creaked and his father whipped around. 

"You are cutting your hair."  
"I-"  
"Now"

He walked over to Viktor and yanked his hair, hard. Viktor cried out and tears formed at the edges of his eyes. His father pulled again, harder. Viktor pushed away from him.

"Dad please- pleas- I" he was crying. Everything hurt and everything was coming to a head.

He was a disgrace, he was a burden. The tears was coming faster and soon he knew his face must have been a mess and all he could think about was that someone had once told him he was a pretty crier. 

That made him want to smile, which made him cry more; Men don't want to look pretty.

"Men don't cry." His father voice had turned icy. That was dangerous. Viktor didn't know what to do he was angry this way. Silent anger; yes. Hot outspoken anger;sure.

Viktor had learned over the past few months of the media's focus on him how to deal with his father's anger. but this? this was something new. 

Viktor wiped his face off as quickly as possible. "Yes, I know father" he whispered to the floor boards.  
"I wasn't crying father" it was worth a try. 

"Maybe it's not the hair. It's the skating, isn't it Viktor."

Viktor's blood ran cold. Skating was his life, his passion, the one thing he had that he truly loved. 

Suddenly, he was willing to give up anything.

"I'll cut my hair if that's what you want father" he said cautiously. "I'll cut my hair if I can keep skating" he looked up slowly.

His father sighed.

"At least that's a start. Vitya, you're still crying. Once you cut that God awful hair I don't want to see one more tear out you."

"Yes father"

"Men don't cry"

"yes father"


End file.
